Here at infidel, we owe our existence (and our portly wallets) to the many (6) people who have passed through and decided to grace us with a moment of their time. So in honor of the one month anniversary of INFDL, we've really gone wacky. In light of our fiesta of goodwill toward our loyal readers, be our third (if you include Thomas' response in one of his own posts) commentor and we'll award you with a very special treat, indeed. It is the sugary staple of the Angloshpere and it's the splendor of the Saxons. It is of course, the gift of Spotted Dick. * Just whip it together and you'll soon be snacking on the delicious dessert of the Druids.**
*England had a pudding to name, and they named it Spotted Dick. Perhaps because the Brits like their puddings to be an ever-present reminder of what lies in their pants. I'll pass on the Dick, thank you, but please do pass me some Stinky Fingers or some nice Warty Hole.
** Said snack will be shipped upon receipt of a reasonable fixed shipping charge of $38 (not including insurance or duty). May cause mal-alignment of teeth.
Update: more Spotted Dick news from the respected, solemn and grave BBC
Tommay's Update: Speaking of spotted dick, I think I may have been spotted adjusting mine, in front of a classroom of my own students! Yes, this morning in fact, in front of a class that I instruct on Fridays. This occurred while I was sitting behind an open-front table facing the class. Unconsciously, thinking that sitting behind this table gave me the needed exclusive zone of privacy, I had to go ahead and make the adjustment, which isn't always a quick job (hey these new jeans are real ball-breakers, but they look fantastic to the ladayzz) . Little while later I came to understand my erroneous judgement about the "private space, " realizing that there had been ample time for everyone to have witnessed this, as I'm sure many did. I'm out.